Man! I feel like a woman
by Zombie Heroine
Summary: Genderbended Kirk and Spock AU. This is a one-shot series of random scenes of the reboot timeline with genderbended setting.
1. Prologue

**Title: **Man! I feel like a woman (one-shot series)**  
Author: **I am.**  
Fandom: **Star Trek (2009 reboot)**  
Genre: **Scifi/Drama**  
Rating: **PG**  
Warnings: **implied child abuse. Also, Y chromosome has, in some cases, been replaced with an X.

**Summary: **Genderbended AU (two characters). Simply some random scenes of the reboot timeline with genderbended setting.**  
Disclaimer: **I don't own Star Trek, only these texts.****

A/N: Yes, I took male characters and turned them into females. Rule of cool, everyone.

No, I don't apologize. No, I don't regret this.

* * *

Red alert.

_Warning. Impact._

A man determined and afraid at the same time, squeezing the armrests of the Captain's chair. He's about to die and he knows it.

The bridge of the U.S.S. Kelvin is filled with a new-born baby's first cry, and beside stiff coldness of fear in George Kirk's guts sets bright, warm happiness that expands in his chest and squeezes his throat.

"What is it?" he asks breathlessly, praising some nameless all-mighty in his head for the lasting contact to the shuttle 37.

"It's a girl," answers Winona's exhausted voice that is just as much a mixture of fright and happiness as her husband's.

"A girl?" he says and laughs a little. "A little lady! Oh, darling... Describe her to me!"

Winona craddles her daughter tighter in her arms and strokes her face. A freshly washed, small hand closes around her finger. The mother feels strong emotions welling inside her, heavy and vast as an ocean, and her throat tightens, tears start to roll and a sob escapes.

"She's beautiful," she whispers with high-pitched voice unable to come up with anything else. But the girl _is_ beautiful, she's a breeze of solar wind, she's starlight, and she's already in Winona's heart. The hand that's finger the baby is not holding feels empty and weak, aching to be held by the absent husband. He's still there on the ship and although Winona can hear him through the communicator, she feels like she has already lost him.

"You should be here, George, you should see her. She has your eyes," Winona whispers because she can't make a louder sound.

"_Impact alert," _says the cold, neutral voice of the computer.  
Only minutes, maybe seconds, and she will be a widow, alone with two children.

George speaks faster now, anxious. "What are we gonna call her?"  
He has to know what's his daughter's name. First girl in their family, oh God, now Winona would get her pink curtains and lacy dresses, she would get to brush her hair and make heart-shaped cookies on her birthday.

For a moment George imagines himself on a motorcycle with a blond little girl who is gripping the handles and wearing sneakers on her feet. She swings her legs restlessly, overly eager to learn how to drive.

Her big brother would have to teach her.

"I... I don't know," Winona says. She hasn't thought about any names since she has always believed children sort of name themselves when a mother gets them in her arms, and they didn't even know the baby's sex nor did they dare to wish for either.

Time is running out, and seeing the enemy ship nearing George finds himself throwing in a suggestion. "How... How about Jamie? It will sound nice when you call kids to dinner."  
Winona gives a loud sob and a painful smile. "Okay, Jamie it is. Hello, Jamie."

George tells her he loves her, and she likes to think he means both of them, his wife and daughter.

The last confession of love is interrupted before he can finish the word "you", the connection goes out and then there's only the quiet hum of the shuttle, bright explosion flames outside and the dead silence of space.

The baby is quiet and warm in Winona's arms when she begins to weep.


	2. Chapter 1: An angry girl from Iowa

**A/N: **Well hello, lovely readers! I'm so glad this simple fic got some attention! Here's the first actual chapter of this series!

I have finished chapters up to the fourth, and I have no idea how many I'm going to make these, but we'll see. I'm not going to publish these daily althought I'll give you the first one so quickly.

Chapter 2 will probably appear next week.

.

* * *

**1. An angry girl from Iowa**

Jamie was twenty-three, educated and she had a job, and still she was facing nothing but emptiness. Her mother, Winona Kirk, had a job that took her away from home – actually away from Earth – for long periods of time, and then there were just Jamie, her brother Sam and their stepfather.

Just dandy.

Sam had been an angry child. He had felt abandoned when their father died and dissapointed at a little sister instead of a little brother. Sam had grown up to be an angry teen, and just like when they were children, he and Jamie fought a lot, but also grew close during those nights when Frank drank and their mother cried.  
On those nights Sam had used to take his motorcycle and drive around with Jamie all night until the red stripe of sunrise could be seen behind the corn fields.  
But Sam had been a troubled kid, there was no helping it. He started fights, couldn't concentrate on his studies and he fought a lot with Frank – loud and hard.  
Sam had packed his bags and taken a shuttle somewhere when Jamie was fourteen.  
He sent her a holo message every Christmas from Arizona.

Maybe anger was contagious or the broken, harsh environment had done its job well, but Jamie wasn't any calmer than Sam. She did well at school, but didn't have any interest in it beyond good grades. For some reason it was satisfying to see a row of A's, but she didn't care about it beyond that, not even so much that she'd ponder on why it was nice to have good grades.

Jamie was a fighter, too. She didn't actually seek a fight, but she had this thing with her anger: Once it was awoken, it was really hard to keep it under control.  
Most of the time, she didn't even bother to.

She drove without a helmet and parked her motorcycle before the bar she worked in. The bar was empty save for a bartender and a few regular customers drinking quietly in their tables. Jamie waved her hand casually at the bartender when she walked past him into the staff's room to change.  
"Hi, Max. Give me the usual, will you? I'll be ready in a minute," she asked casually before flinging the door shut.  
Max sighed, took a fresh towel under the bar, wrapped a ladleful of ice into it and hit it a few times against the counter. When Jamie came back from the staff's room wearing a black skirt and a short-sleeved, white dress shirt, Max handed the ice for her. She flashed him a grateful smile and pressed the sweet coolness against her black eye. Max studied her for a moment taking in the split lip and red nose that had obviously been bleeding just recently.

"What?" Jamie asked a bit aggressively when the bartender's gaze lingered on her a bit too long. He lifted his hands in a defensive gesture and turned to sort the glasses in neat rows again.  
"Nothing, nothing," he said. "Got in another fight, didn't you?"

Jamie snorted and grabbed a pile of electronic drink lists in her free hand. "Yeah, well. Obviously. If I had fallen with my bike I'd be ranting about ruining my brand-new paint."

"It would be a poor lie too," he commented. "I don't think it's possible to fall off the motorcycle and injure only your face."  
Jamie laughed a little and went to toss one drink list on every table. Then she returned behind the counter to drop the ice into a sink and grab her tray.

"You should get out of here," Max sighed slowly shooking his head while watching Jamie's swollen lip and purple eye.  
"What? Are you firing me?" Jamie chuckled. "Haven't I done a good job?"  
"No, I didn't mean to get out of this bar. I meant out of this town, this state, maybe even the country. But first of all, out of that damned house," he listed while wiping the bar and pretending to be indifferent. "This is not good for you."  
Jamie managed to laugh and pulled her hand through her short, spiky hair. "Well, maybe not. But we will all die anyway, so what does it matter? At least I'm honest about this," she smirked and gestured towards her face. "I could go around telling people I ran into a door or fell in the stairs. And I don't exactly have the money to move out yet."

Max felt helpless for a moment. Jamie was giving him a cocky smirk, but he could see what she really was. She was suicidal. And it pained him though he didn't even know her well. He was just a guy in his early fourties, mixing drinks to make a living and leading a standard, nice life that had a group of good friends and one special woman in it.  
And Jamie was just a gal carrying drinks, a nice girl working in the same bar, too smart to be there and too straightforward for her own good.

And still it pained him to see a person going into a turmoil like that.

It was a busy night for the whole staff, because in addition to regular flow of customers there was a whole herd of cadets in Starfleet reds. After almost one third of the bar's tables were occupied by cadets, Jamie asked Max about it, and he told her the new semester was just about to begin, and it was their final night out.  
Jamie had been so long out of the school she didn't even remember the starting dates anymore.

"- two Cardassian sunrises... And a slusho mix, please," ended a long order, and Jamie had to keep herself from checking the customer in question out from head to toes. She was tall and had an oval-shaped face, dark brown skin and long, shining hair that fell gracefully down her shoulders. She wore a cadet's uniform, but well, no one's perfect.  
"Quite a load, but you have a good taste," Jamie said to her and flashed a lopsided smile, and the woman returned it.  
"Care for a shot?" Jamie continued, already pouring one. "It's on the house."

A smile and a wink.

The woman looked at her now with a whole new look in her eyes, like she had just actually seen Jamie.  
"Sorry, but I don't play for the home team," she answered, but accepted the shot Jamie offered. "And I pay for my drinks."

"Oh, you'd be surprised how many home players I have recruited," Jamie grinned. "And they have all enjoyed the game. But really, you can have the shot on the house, it doesn't have to mean anything, cadet...?"  
The woman hesitated for a moment, half-way answering. She fumbled the shot glass in her long, dark fingers. With a quick look Jamie noticed how nicely her nails were done and painted.

"Uhura," the cadet finally admitted, and Jamie was pleased.  
"Oh, a pretty name for a pretty girl. Got a last name?"  
"That is my last name."  
"Oh? So, just cadet Uhura then. If I'm nice, will you grant me access to your first name?"

A smile bloomed on Uhura's face, making her from pretty to beautiful. But she was shaking her head, more amused than into the game.  
"Look, miss - "  
"Kirk, Jamie," she cut in quickly. "The best waitress around here, who gets off the job eleven P.M."  
"Okay, miss Kirk, I really meant it when I said I don't play for home team," Uhura convinced her with her hand doing a calming gesture to Jaimie. "So... you're really just wasting your time on me."

Jamie tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips a bit at her. "Aw, don't worry cadet Secret-First-Name Uhura, simply talking to you and seeing your gorgeous smile is perfect use of my time."  
Now she looked flattered, Jamie could see it in a way she dropped her gaze and blinked rapidly a few times.

"So," Jamie pressed on now leaning to the counter while giving Uhura the best angel smile she could manage. She could see how Uhura's eyes darted to take in the bruises on her face that had been almost invisible in the dimly lit bar, but she ignored it. "You study, right? What, exactly?"  
"Xenolinguistics. It's-"  
"- Study of alien languages. Morphology, phonology, syntax... the whole packet. Quite a focus you've got! You must know your way with your tongue," Jamie said and winked again.  
Uhura looked truly surprised and even genuinly interested.  
"Didn't know I had that in me, did you now?" the blond woman said smiling and passed Uhura her drinks as Max slided them to her. Uhura looked a bit lost in words for a moment, lingering between apology for her underestimation and simply continuing the conversation.  
Jamie rushed for her rescue with a hearty laugh: "Oh, don't worry, you're not the first one to think the blondie from Midwest never picked up a book."  
Uhura laughed and the awkward tension passed, and Jamie got to admire her in compleatly relaxed state, head thrown back and white teeth visible.

Of course on that moment Max had to cut in.

"Jamie! Take drinks to the table four. They've waited for quite a time," the bartender said holding four beer bottles in one hand. Jamie sighed and picked up the tray, took the bottles and excused herself with a bright smile. When she glanzed over her shoulder she saw Uhura taking the drinks she ordered to the table her friends waited for her.  
Jamie gave a sigh; she probably wouldn't get another chance to speak with her.

The table four had cadets, too. There were four guys, all remarkably irritated and two of them slightly drunk. She proceeded to place their drinks on the table.  
"Hey, we've waited a long time for these," one of them said when Jamie put the bottle infront of him.  
"Well, as you can see, there're a lot of customers," Jamie replied neutrally without making an eye-contact.  
"Well they ordered after us and they already got it!" another of the guys remarked cocking his head to the next table. Jamie glanced the next table and indeed, the group of five there were having their drinks. Not that it mattered to her, drinks were carried when they were made, and orders made straight to the bar often went ahead of those made from the tables.

"I can see that. But we do have a lot of customers and you have you're drinks now-" Jamie started with a bored tone. She hated customer service.

"Well maybe if you did your job, having a lot of customers didn't matter."  
Jamie glared at the guy. He was tall, bald and broad-shouldered.

"I _am _doing my job, thank you very much," Jamie answered coldly.

"Well I don't know about that," the bald guy pressed on. "You seemed to have enough free time to chat with that girl over the bar."

"She made an order. It's my job to take orders and pass then to the bartender," Jamie replied while gritting her teeth.

"Sure didn't look like that," commented another guy who had Asian eyes and short, black hair combed back. "Did you get punched for not delivering drinks fast enough, too?"

_Actually, yes, but I'm not going to tell you that.  
Fucker.  
_

"Look missy, I think we have earned some extra for the time you wasted on flirting," the bald guy said in a demanding tone. "A shot for each will do."  
There was no arguing with that, and Jamie stormed back behind the bar counter to pick up a bottle, all the while swearing under her breath. God, she hated obnoxious customers who thought she was some goddamned android you could tell around however you liked just because she was working there.  
When she arrived back to the table were the four guys sat with smug smiles on their faces, she had managed to draw one on her face too.  
"Will this do, good sirs?" she asked sweetly showing them the whiskey bottle.  
"Yeah, that will do," the bald one (some sort of a leader for them, apparently) nodded.  
And so, Jamie proceeded to pour the whiskey right on their table.

"What the fuck are you doing?" the Asian man yelled as brown liquid spilled from the table onto his lap.

"You ordered shots, not glasses," Jamie smiled and made sure every single one of them would get their trousers wet.  
"What the fuck, bitch?" yelled the bald guy and stood up. He was furious, and the three others followed his example. "Is this how you treat your paying customers here?"  
Jamie took a step back but didn't otherwise back down. "No, this is how we treat whiny little bastards, just before we kick them out," she snarled back.

"Now watch your mouth, blondie!" he yelled and took a step towards her. He was so loud that people around had began to look. "I could get you fired in a second!"  
"Yeah? Well that would be great! Then I could break your nose, jaw and the hand you jerk off with without having to worry about my salary!"

The bald guy, who also happened to be the biggest of the group took another step towards her and his hands clenched into fists, and Jamie held the tray in front of her like it was her shield and prepared for a fight.

Now the whole bar was watching them, cadets curious and the locals worrying about Jamie: everyone knew how the Kirk's girl got into fights she couldn't win and yet tried to. The bartender had gotten on the situation too, and was rushing around the counter to break the fight before his waitress got beaten.

However, before Max could reach them, before Jamie could slam the tray into the nearest guy's face and before the nearest guy could do anything but rise his fist into a punch, a sharp whistle broke the athmosphere, and suddenly every single cadet was standing at attention.  
Confused, Jamie started to look for the source of the interruption, and located an irritated and somewhat dissapointed looking man standing in the door frame. He might have once had black hair, but it was now growing gray. He also had a strong jaw, watchful dark eyes and slowly forming wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.  
He was wearing a black uniform, an officer's unifrom.

"Get out of here. The whole group," he ordered, and even though whining and complaining about unfairness, every single cadet obeyed. The guys Jamie had annoyed spared her one more hateful look, but left altogether without another word.  
Max rushed to Jamie's side to take her arm – not for support but to stop her from chasing after the guys - as the rest of the bar began to talk about the nearly-an-incident and returned to their drinks. Jamie jerked her arm free from Max's grasp, but shook off her fighting pose too.

"Are you alright, miss?" the Starfleet officer asked Jamie politely.

Jamie just eyed the man coldly and replied: "You just saved your boys from ass-kicking."  
The officer rised his eyebrows at her.

"Get back to work, Kirk!" Max sighed with frustration, slapping Jamie on her shoulder. This caught the officers attention, and he confirmed: "Kirk? Is your name Kirk?"  
"Yeah, Jamie T.," Jamie confirmed and could see in the officer's eyes how she transformed from a woman into someone's daughter. He looked like he might have wanted to say something, but Jamie was faster: "Look, if you have something to say, you have to wait 'til I get off from my job. And if you aren't going to order anything, you might as well leave now."

Her strictness seemed to take the older man bit aback, but he ordered one beer and looked like he really was going to sit in his table until the closing time. Jamie hated to admit it, but he was so persistent about talking to her, that she feared for whatever he wanted to say to her.

When the closing time came, Jamie started to wipe the tables and lift the chairs and did her best to ignore the officer still in his table, waiting for a chance to talk to her. Before long, Jamie had to clean the table right next to the one the graying officer was sitting in, and that was when the much feared conversation started.

"Why don't you stop for a moment and take a seat?" he suggested neutrally.  
Jamie dropped the rag onto the table and took a deep breath through her nose before turning to him. She lingered there for a moment, trying to read his hard gaze and determined expression, then pulled a chair and sat opposite of him without another word. She crossed her arms and eyed him with doubt and rebel.

"I am Captain Christopher Pike," the officer started. "I can't really express in words how much you surprised me when I heard your name."  
Jamie snorted. "And what about it?"  
"I know who you are."  
"Well, obviously. You wouldn't be so interested in chatting me up if you didn't, _Captain_."

Pike didn't look insulted or demoralized at this. He simply lifted an eyebrow at her and pressed on:  
"I knew your father, you know. I admired him for his bravery. He was a bit like you, I think. Impulsive, trusted his instincts and never hestitated to act. That kind of attitude is rare nowadays."

Jamie chuckled though she wasn't a single bit amused and shook her head. "Why are you telling that to me? I don't care."

"I've sat here for hours and read your files. You have flawless grades and every test you've taken is top-level. So, what's the matter with you? Is it fun to know you're genius while you carry drinks here or pick fights on the streets?"

"What's wrong with waitressing?" Jamie threw back. Pike had just appeared from out of nowhere to judge her life, and damn if that didn't piss her off. "It's a job, just like any other."

"True, but you could make it so much higher than this," Pike noted. "Enlist in Starfleet, miss Kirk."

Jamie let out a laugh that was a mixture of mockery and amusement, because this just was too good. She had seen probably every social worker in the state, her teachers had been worried, Winona had been worried whenever she was visiting Earth, and now some stranger - her father's friend no less - in a goddamn uniform had came all the way to Iowa to talk her into joining the army, or so you could say.

"Really, Captain Pike? Oh man, you are _really_ desparate, did you know that? Or do you have some petty before/after-ad campaign in process?"

"If there's even a smallest part in you that's like your father, you could make yourself a great career, even have your own ship in only seven, maybe eight years of service. In only twelve minutes of captaincy, your father saved-"

Snap.

"Enough about my father!" Jamie found herself yelling. She had slammed her hand on the table and was now sitting on the edge of her chair, fire burning inside of her. Pike sat up a little bit straighter, but otherwise didn't seem surprised or tense.

"I don't have a father, okay? Dropping his name, pulling his rank or rubbing his achievements in my face doesn't make any difference!" Jamie continued, not quite yelling but angry anyway. "George Kirk is a hero, a legend and all that bullshit, yay, let's all celebrate! Yeah, a great man, his daughter must be so proud, she'll definitely join Starfleet too! "she mocked. "Well, guess what, Captain Pike? Your hero is to me just a person who didn't come home. I don't have a father, I have a picture of a man in a uniform on a shelf. Nothing more! Anything he was, said or did interest me about as much as the last time I blew my nose ."

Pike seemed to measure her with his gaze for a minute while he weighted her words. Jamie stared back at him with burning eyes, unwilling to dart her gaze first.  
When the man spoke again, his voice was calm and had that sort of finality in it that told her the conversation would be over soon.  
"Okay, let's forget the late Captain then. But seriously, what are you doing here anymore? Winona works for Starfleet and I'm aware she's rarely on Earth, and you're home with your stepfather. Why? Are you sulking at the bad luck you've had so far? You're a smart, talented young woman, why are you holding yourself back? You could be something great and special if you'd simply let youself become that." He was quiet for a moment, letting the words sink in. At least Jamie looked less angry by now.

"I know how you feel. You're angry all the time, restless and frustrated, and something is wrong. You didn't hit your face on a door frame, did you?"  
Jamie moved involuntarily, turning her head a bit to hide the obvious bruise, but still refused to lower her gaze.  
Pike made a strained attempt to smile and got up from his seat.  
"Don't think it as following George's footsteps, but as a favor to yourself. Save yourself from here, kid. Riverside shipyard, tomorrow morning o-eight hundred. The shuttle for new recruits. Be there, for yourself."

Then he simply nodded to her and walked out, leaving Jamie sitting there in thought.

She sat still for a long while repeating the conversation in her head over and over again. She felt a bit ashamed of all the yelling and snapping, but then again, she had had a reason. The topic had been personal and sensitive, and surely Pike had been aware of that, too.  
Jamie traced the bruises on her face without actually realizing her actions, and there was a hollow, aching feeling in her chest. After a long while she stood up, wiped the table and lifted the chairs. Then she walked to the staff's room, changed and went to find Max, who was counting the cashbox.

"Hey Maxie," she greeted so overly cheerful that it made him stop what he was doing and give her a questioning look.

Jamie beamed at him. "I quit!"


	3. Chapter 2: A spoilt Friday night

**A/N: **Thank you for reading, reviewing, faving and following! I'm so happy about all the attention this fic got! Thank you.  
Here's chapter 2 for you. Meet McCoy, everyone!  
.

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**2. A spoilt Friday night**

Nurses on call were very aware that the patient they were bringing in had a really bad timing.

The afternoon shift was just about to end, and the doctors on call were about to be relieved and free to spend their Friday evening as they pleased. Normally the afternoon shift was the best option when considering the free time's conventional timing, and normally those shifts were tactically shared and considered as benefits, and if something were to disturb that benefit, it was better to be urgent.  
And this patient was. The two nurses pushing the strecher on which the patient was lying on shared a few nervous glanzes. The afternoon shift had ended only five minutes ago, but if the ones on evening shift were late, someone would have to work overtime.

The last pair of doors were pushed open, and the nurse in front of the strecher yelled: "Doctor McCoy! Emergency!"  
"Well goddamn it and go to hell!" was their answer, undoubtably angry. The doctor in question had been putting on his jacket, but now ripped it off and hurled it on the floor. "Why can't these morons wait 'til the shift changes before they wreck themselves!" he yelled with frustration.  
Nurses were both too smart to say anything back, leaving the doctor no one to take his anger out at. Grumbling and swearing under his breath the doctor stomped towards them yanking a tricorder from a bag he had already snapped shut. He gestured the nurses to bring the patient to one of the biobeds and walked along the stretcher.

"Well, what did you do to yourself?" he asked.

"I fell, and I'm in shock, don't give me any water the patient in shock mustn't drink anything, I just fell and landed on my back, no water," the cadet in her training clothes babbled eyes wide and unblinking.

"She was wall-climbing in the gym, doctor," one of the nurses explained patiently. "She wasn't wearing any safety equipment, that's why she was injured when she fell."  
The Doctor scanned her quickly and noted that her eyes didn't follow the device, and she kept babbling about the inccident and her state of shock without making much sense.  
"She has a concussion, but no fractures," McCoy informed the nurses. "Get her on the bed, I'll give her something to ease the pain."  
"I'm.. I'm really fine... Fine I am, I just... Hey... this isn't the gym," the young cadet stammered looking confused. McCoy rolled his eyes. Mental confusion and short-period memory loss are typical symptons of concussion, but the diganosis only meant the patient would have to be kept under observation overnight in case of more severe brain damage.

To arrange this and the possible later treatment was now on his responsibility, because this young woman with terrible timing was now his patient.

Great, huh?

The nurse brought him a hypospray on a tray, and he jammed it in his patient neck. She blinked once, twice and reached her neck with her hand, apparently not quite realizing what just happened. Meanwhile the other nurse appeared with a PADD and started to squeeze information from her.

"Cadet, I need your name here," she requested with a clear voice. Blue eyes focused on her.  
"Jamie T. Kirk. Oh... Am I supposed to feel nauseous?"  
"You suffered concussion, nausea is very common," the nurse calmy informed as if quoting a text book. "What does the T stand for?"  
"Uh... Not going to tell you, pretty one."  
The nurse simply tugged a curl back into her pun and ignored the cadet's answer, skipping to the next question.

"How did the injury occur?"  
"Not my fault. Gary was supposed to hold the rope, he didn't, I fell. Simple. Stupid Gary."

McCoy shook his head and crossed his arms. He would have very much liked to have a word with this Gary about basic safety and responsibility.

"Doctor, would you please fill the medical report," the nurse said, handed the PADD to McCoy and escaped the scene. Grumbling, McCoy began to fill in information about the severality of the injuries, possible medication (standard painkillers) and sick leave (none needed so far).  
"Hey doc," the cadet mumbled while rubbing her temples. "Did I ruin your night?"  
"Damn right you did," McCoy muttered through his teeth. It was not like he had any plans for tonight or anything, but the thought of having a Friday night free held value in itself.

"Sorry."

He spared her a glanze and met sharp blue eyes that looked at him under sweaty blond hair. The doctor simply gave her a doubtful eyebrow. He checked through information the nurse had filled in earlier, and something awoke his curiousness: "What does the T in you name stand for?"  
The young woman groaned. "Not going to tell you. That's what I said to your pretty nurse too, didn't I?"  
"Why are you hiding your middle name?"  
"It's silly. Not the brightest idea from the woman who gave birth to me"  
McCoy snorted. "You can't be serious, kid. It's just a name."

He received no answer.

"Okay, I'm going to ask you some questions to test if you can form any coherent thoughts with that blond head of yours. Sentences seem to be fine."  
Cadet Kirk smirked and made a welcoming gesture with her hands. "Anything you say, doc."

"Where's the Eiffel tower?"  
"Paris."  
"Color of the sky?"  
"Blue."  
"A barking animal?"  
"Seriously? A dog."  
"Your home state?"  
"Iowa."

Of course McCoy had no idea where she was from, but the answer was quick and that was what mattered. The concussion didn't seem to be too severe, though she would start feeling fatigued on any minute now. He would just have to tell her to sleep and tell the nurses to check on her a few times during the night. If she didn't have any symptons in the morning, she could leave.  
McCoy checked the time from his watch.  
He was already forty-five minutes in the next shift.  
He saved the report in the records and remarked that there were more entries in the file "J.T. Kirk" than first-year-students had on average when the semester was only half in. He didn't ask about it.

"So, how was Iowa?" he asked casually.  
"Oh, it was hell," came the equally casual answer.  
"How so?"  
"Mom was never home, my step-father was an abusive drunk and my older brother ran away."

McCoy frowned and looked at the cadet to see if she was joking, but her expression was nothing but serious. He realized his silence might have came across as stunned or awkward when she shrugged her shoulders and gave a joyless little laugh. "Well, you asked. I hate it when people ask things they don't really want an answer to. 'How are you' is one of those phrases. They don't want to know how you are, they want to hear 'fine' and move on."  
McCoy frowned even more and said back: "Don't lecture me, kid. You think you know what rough is? I'm recently divorced, there's rough for you."

Kirk cocked her head to the side and studied him carefully for a short moment.

"You know... I really am sorry for ruining your Friday night. You seem okay. I'll buy you a coffee when I get out of here."  
"Nah, you didn't ruin anything. I don't have anything better to do than patch up you suicidal idiots."  
"Let's go get coffee anyway, it's going to be fun! I could use a doctor as a friend."  
"I bet you could..." McCoy grunted under his breath, shaking his head. He started to put his PADD and tricorder in the bag for the second time that day. "You'll spend the night here," he told her as he snapped the bag shut.

Kirk sat up and started to pull off her sneakers. "If you say so doc, but first thing tomorrow we're getting coffee, right? I'm going to need it. What was your name again?"  
McCoy crossed his arms. "What's your middle name?"  
Kirk looked at him with mixed feelings radiating from her; amusement and annoyance.  
She gave a deep sigh end extended her hand.

He took it, didn't shake but simply squeezed. "Leonard McCoy."  
"Jamie Tiffany Kirk."  
"Tiffany? That's not a bad name."  
"Yes, it is! It sounds like a brand of chocolate. And it's girly as hell."  
"You are a girl."  
"Not that much."

McCoy gave a small puff of a laughter and the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. "Go to sleep, kid. I wake up early and I want my coffee."  
She grinned like a cat and waved at him when he left.


	4. Chapter 3: With hesitant respect, sir

**A/N: **Wow, thank you for all your favs and follows! I'm so happy I'm not the only one who likes genderbending. Don't be shy to review, either. Reviews make me happy.

This next chapter is a sort of "missing scene" between captain Pike and Kirk. This is pretty much my head canon about these characters. It's about time that Kirk has some nice adults around her!

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**3. With hesitant respect, sir**

Captain Pike had returned from the latest diplomatic mission to give a series of lectures about intergalactic relations for the second-year cadets.  
Everyone were to learn and remember that they weren't just soldiers, that combat skills, weaponary and attitude weren't enough to qualify for Starfleet, but they were diplomats as well. They would have to be willing to work to form and maintain relations with peoples and races with calm and professional hold which sometimes ment giving up your own believes and morals.

Pike had noticed the name Kirk on the attending students' list, but didn't let it become too important. When he had arrived back to Earth, he had checked her records and questioned other lecturers and trainers about her progress, and had been very pleased and somewhat relieved to hear so much good. Jamie Kirk had made her way to the top group of nearly every class she had taken, and teachers described her as a motivated, knowledge-hungry and dedicated student. None of them had any idea about the mud pit she had crawled up from, and a few even expressed genuine puzzlement about the criminal record she had (fees for speeding, fees for assaults, nights in jail for fighting).  
In a little over a year Jamie Kirk seemed to have made a lot progress.

After lectures some students had a habit to stay overtime and ask questions that had not come up during the lesson or weren't directly relevant to the subject of today. Most questions considered field work or some specific incident in the past, but some times they evolved into debates about morals and views of the world. This was mainly with idealistic students or students of some other species, who needed clarification about human ways and philosophy, and they were educating for every party of the debate.  
However interesting and rewarding these after-class talks were, Pike still found himself somewhat disappointed that Kirk never attended them, even though teachers generally regarded her as a one to do such things.  
When the class was over, he always caught a glimpse of a tall, short-haired blond walking out with an Orion woman and harshly gesturing black woman with long hair in tiny braids.

The last group of three left the lecture hall still hecticly debating about reasons to make an exception to Prime Directive, and Pike was left to gather up his PADD and laptop. The afternoon lecture had been the last one of the day, and he was on his way to the officers' cafeteria for a late lunch, when: "Captain Pike, may I have a word with you?"  
He turned around and saw Jamie Kirk hurrying her steps to catch up with him. Her Orion friend stood in the corridor corner looking like she was making sure Jamie would reach and talk to him. She disappeared behind the corner in one swish of red curls when Pike turned around and acknowledged Kirk.

"By any means, cadet Kirk."

Kirk nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor as she slowed her pace to match her steps with Pike. Her white-knucled right hand squeezed the handle of her school bag and the left one smoothed her red uniform skirt despite it having no wrinkles. She was nervous for some reason.  
"Your lectures have been very interesting," Kirk began with an overly light tone. "I was afraid I couldn't attend to them since I already study message coding, but since the lecture hall is the same we only got extra homework for the next couple of weeks."  
Pike nodded while watching her from the corner of his eye. She was way too nervous for simply wanting to discuss courses and academic matters.  
"This is mandatory teaching, cadet. Teachers are obligated to make arrangements so as many cadets as possible can attend this particular course," he explained even though he was certain Kirk was aware of all this.

The woman simply nodded now holding her bag with both hands, clearly uncomfortable in her search for right words, and silence streched.

"Cadet Kirk," Captain said finally taking pity on her. "You do know that all Starfleet's teachers, tutors and trainers are more than willing to speak confidentally with you? If something is wrong -"

"Oh, no," she interrupted hastily shaking her head. "Nothing is wrong, sir. Actually, uh, that's why I wanted to talk to you."

Pike waited patiently for her to continue. She pulled her hand through her hair a few times searching for right words to express herself. After enlisting she had started to comb and wash her hair regulary, and it wasn't sticking out in every direction now like it had on the night before taking the shuttle to San Francisco.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Kirk requested.

"Granted," Pike agreed.

"Well, the truth is, the last two years have been the first period of my life when actually nothing is wrong," Kirk admitted an uncertain smile on her face and eyes wandering. Classes of the day were finished, and corridors were full of cadets and tutors. Noise seemed to give her more courage due unlikeliness of even accidental eavesdropping.

"It's been good to be here. I even have friends. And I'm even really looking forward to my career, and that's more than I expected. And, um, I don't really know why I enlisted, I just did. But I'm glad I did, and I want to thank you for a... push or whatever it was."

Kirk fell silent with a rather dramatic sigh and clearly calmer for having said all that.  
In all honesty, Pike was genuinly glad and somewhat relieved hearing this from Kirk herself. It would have been a crime against all existing if that much potential had been wasted and George Kirk's daughter had been left to rot in Riverside as a nobody.

"We would lose a good man in you – if you pardon the expression. You can thank me by becoming a good officer. You could make it in four or five years," Pike stated with the same voice he ordered his crew and almost saw motivation electrifying her whole being.  
For the first time during their short yet intimate conversation Kirk made eye-contact with him. Her gaze was determined and slightly mischievious.

"I'll become a captain, sir."


	5. Chapter 4: Bra, panties and boxers

**A/N: **Hello everyone! I'm terribly sorry this update has taken so long, but all my beta-readers happened to run away at the same time. One ditched me, one went to Germany and came back very tired and one had a mental breakdown, and I just got this somehow fixed two days ago. Again, I'm sorry.

But thank you for all the follows and those a few reviews I've got. They keep me going.

I'm happy to bring this to you now, I hope you enjoy this! The next chapter will be longer, perhaps even longer than the first, so please be patient. I won't abandon this project!

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**4. Bra, panties and boxers**

Uhura had tolerance as her natural character trait, and that trait had originally motivated her to study xenolinguistics and enlist in Starfleet. She was a calm, rational person with strong common sense, and due that she had been aware of certain downsides of accepting Gaila of Orion as her roommate. Orions held on to their neutral status more tightly than mudflees on their hosts and were more tight-lipped about their society than Vulcans.  
Orions appreciated strong hierarchy and solid roles in their community, and their communication leaned heavily on physical and material benefits. Uhura knew all this and saw nothing wrong with it, but what she should have seen was that the line would be crossed at some point.

The infamous line that marked the point of cultural clash was indeed met on one dark night of the late fall, when Uhura was done with the last day of long, exhausting exams that had taken long weeks of studying to pass. She thought she had done well although some finer points of Andorian philosophy and business ethics were a bit obscure, and even if her Vulcan calligraphy was still a bit messy, it was readable and correct.

Uhura bought some take-away food from an Italian restaurant three blocks away from the campus, and made her way back to the women's dorm building number five with wobbling feet, aching neck and a head that felt like it was full of scrambled eggs. All she wanted was to toss away her uniform, wear a baggy t-shirt and panties, eat her meal and maybe watch some film without worrying about anything.  
But no, such luxuries weren't allowed here. Uhura barely had taken off her boots, when she stumbled upon her rather promiscuous roommate in her underwear, lying sideways on the bed, and another woman in a too short tank top and men's boxers holding a can of chocolate ice cream. They both had frozen when Uhura came in, Gaila looking like she had been caught hand in a cookie jar, and her guest had a spoon in her mouth apparently forgotten.

The silence fell on them like a heavy blanket, but it lasted only for a few seconds before Uhura's stress exploded.

"What the hell, Gaila?! Why is _that _here?! Didn't we agree that you'd stop bringing guys into our room?!"

Gaila smiled sheepishly. "She isn't a guy! Besides, we're studying, not hooking up!"

"Yeah, right! Since when have either of you spend your weekends studying? I know what's going on here!"

"No, seriously! We are studying! But it doesn't have to mean it can't be fun!"

Jamie just stood there with the ice cream can in her hand and the spoon in her mouth, watching the argument. Uhura seemed genuinely pissed about Jamie, and Gaila fluttered her eyelashes while tapping the bed covers with her delicate green fingers.

"That there is a fling of yours, right?! We had an agreement about flings in this room!" Uhura snapped pointing one finger towards Jamie.

"Hey, excuse me ladies," Jamie cut in taking the spoon from her mouth, "but 'that' has a name, too."

Uhura's gaze burned her skin, but she acknowledged her anyway. "_Fine_ then. Kirk. Don't think I don't know what you do with girls."

Jamie lifted her hands as if in defence while she made her way to Gaila's bed and sat down.  
"Yeah, well, sue me. But really, we are here to do our homework," she said affectionately and offered a spoonful of ice cream to Gaila, who happily opened her mouth to accept it.  
Uhura rolled her eyes and made a frustrated noise, but made her way to the kitchen corner without another comment. She put the cardboard box that had her take-away pasta in it on the table and started to look for a fork.

Jamie and Gaila went on with their conversation that involved a worrying amount of giggling from Gaila, and when Uhura glanced over her shoulder at them she saw that Jamie sat with her legs crossed and a bright, clearly self-made laptop in her lap and Gaila had pressed herself against her side and laid her head on her shoulder.  
Uhura turned back to her meal, the only welcome company she had, and huffed to herself. The direction of their so called "studying" was painfully clear and it started to look like Uhura would have to bunk in someone else's room, and knowing Jamie – or at least her reputation – it wouldn't be Gaila's fault nor should it be blamed on Orion nature.

"You know what, Gaila?" Uhura asked and stabbed her dinner with a fork. "She might not techically be a guy, but I'm pretty sure you knew we agreed on not to have sex with random people in _our _room."

Gaila shrugged her shoulders and didn't really seem to be sorry. "You weren't specific enough. And we really mean we're going to study! We're studying right now, you see?" She pointed at Jamie's computer. When Uhura still looked displeased, Gaila adapted a more serious tone and pushed her unruly red hair from her face. "Nyota, I'm not breaking any rule of ours here. Jamie is a friend of mine, and we are not going to sleep together tonight. You are being unreasonable. If you were jealous I would understand, but you have no reason for it, do you?"  
Jamie's head jerked up. "So, your first name is Nyota?"  
Uhura swore in Swahili and made a painful face. "Thanks a lot, Gaila. And you still aren't allowed to call me by it, Kirk!"  
"Okay, okay, I get it," she complied gently and turned back to the computer with a smile. Uhura sighed and took her meal to her bed and sat down. The two other women weren't necessarily studying, but Uhura didn't really care what they did, she was simply happy that there was this one certain thing they weren't doing. She observed them as they started to talk about the exercise they were doing, and after a moment Uhura was quite sure it was a puzzle for their message coding course. Jamie seemed to be perfectly fine with Gaila's lack of understanding of personal space and Orion communicating that involved a lot of touching – and considering their minor amount of clothing, that meant mostly straight skin contact. She couldn't help but to admire Jamie just a bit for that, since she herself couldn't get entirely comfortable with it, and she and Gaila always landed somewhere on the middleground between human and Orion socializing.

"I've always wondered," Uhura said out loud with no traces of earlier malice in her voice, "do Orion women's pheromones affect lesbians like they do on men?"

"That's a good question! See, Uhura? We're on the same wavelenght," Jamie laughed and poked Gaila playfully in the cheek. "Maybe not, since I haven't yet fallen to my knees swearing eternal worshipping and loyalty to her."

Gaila laughed and shook her head: "It's volitional! I wouldn't do that, not even if Jamie was my girlfriend."

"Good to know," Jamie answered mockingly serious. "I think our friendship can go on, then."

Gaila giggled while scrolling her PADD Uhura hadn't even noticed she was holding before now.

"What are you doing anyway? You've been on that course for weeks, and you haven't needed any help until now,"she wondered aloud while twirling spaghetti with a fork.

Jamie's gaze snapped to her and she looked remarkably pleased that she had asked. She was in the middle of eating another spoonful of ice-cream, when she pointed at Uhura with the spoon and swallowed.

"What an excellent question, Uhura! You see, we are solving a puzzle that marks a significant point in our training. Imagine, that a talented person in the communication department, such as yourself, would pick up a message in sub-space frequences, but it didn't make any sense. They would come to the conclusion it's coded, and therefore probably involved some interesting information. Then you'd need someone with training like mine and Gaila's to break the code."

Gaila took the spoon from Jamie and picked some ice-cream for herself all the while reaching over to Jamie and ending up clumsily as much in her lap as it was possible with the laptop in the way. She continued: "But training is not enough! You need someone clever and creative to come up with a right key to break the code, and if you're dumb, no training can change that!"  
Uhura eyed them both and marked their enthusiastic, ambitious expressions. "So... Is that some sort of a test?"  
"Yes, exactly! If we can break this code, we have some real talent and original thinking in us! Knowing that would give us some confidence," Gaila pointed out and Jamie nodded in agreement mouth full of ice-cream.  
"Right... Well, go for it, then," Uhura said shrugging her shoulders. "Do you have any ice-cream left?"  
"This is almost finished, but we have two more cans in the freezer," Jamie answered making Uhura blink a few times.  
"Two more, you said?"  
Two other women lifted their gazes due to Uhura's confusion.  
"I mean, there's nothing wrong with ice-cream, but that is a lot of it!" she hurried to add and got almost identical grins from the other bed.  
"Well, what can you do? Desperate times call for desperate deeds."  
"And this is definitely a puzzle that demands banana and chocolate ice cream."

Something about the conversation managed to bother Gaila, despite all the merit and determinition it held. At first she thought she could shake it off, but the feeling got stuck like a piece of apple's peel between her teeth and continued to bother her until she felt forced to bring it up again. When she did, it was with just her and Jamie in the kitchen looking for something to drink. Uhura was in the room too, but she was watching a movie on her bed. Still, Gaila kept her tone low.

"Hey, do you think we're trying to prove ourselves to someone?"

"Of course we are," Jamie answered straight away, taking Gaila off guard. Jamie saw her puzzled look from the corner of her eye and continued: "Well, it's quite simple, isn't it? We're not power-hungry or bossy, we just want some respect and recognition, that's the source of our willpower. It's no use pretending that you and I are here because of 'scientific curiousity' or 'sense of duty', 'cause we're not. We're looking for a place to be, and since it's not given for us, we need to earn it or fight for it."  
Gaila studied Jamie carefully. Humans were still odd creatures for her, but on occassion Jamie made herself very easy to read. Gaila took pride in that it was mostly just in her company. Those were cosy moments, because keeping honesty and openess tightly in family or between close friends was something humans and orions had in common.

"Jamie, why are you here?" she asked with a voice so soft it made Jamie seek eye-contact.

"I'm here because of myself," she answered simply.

Gaila narrowed her eyes. "That's it? For yourself?"

Jamie raised her eyebrows and poured iced tea in two glasses. "Is there something more precious for me than myself, then? Aren't you here for yourself as well?"

"Well... I don't really fit in a role of an Orion woman. I'm not very dominant and I don't want to tell people what to do. I... I prefer minding my own business and doing my thing without a fuss. But I still like hierarchy, so enlisting in a military organisation felt like a good choice."

Jamie listened to her calmly while taking small sips from her glass. "You see? You're thinking about yourself. What's good for you, what do you want, and so on."

"Well, what's wrong with wanting to be happy?" Gaila threw back a bit defensive.

Jamie shook her head. "No no, that's not what I meant. There's nothing wrong with it. If you won't be a bit selfish from time to time, you can never get what you want, anyway. What I'm trying to say is our reasons are not very different. You see, I don't really know why I'm here or what I'm doing, but I like it here. This is for me."  
They shared a moment of thoughtful silence with a curious feeling of familiarity. Both women thought from time to time how strange it was one could travel lightyears and still come across a friend.

"Gaila, do you ever feel like you deserve something better?" Jamie asked gently. Gaila smiled softly, it wasn't often that Jamie spoke in such voice: Soft, gentle and sweet.

"Doesn't everyone?"

Jamie's smile grew wider and she stroked the edge of the glass with her finger. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Being insecure isn't really a bad thing," Gaila thought out loud, maybe sounding a bit more comforting than she had intended to. But Jamie just let out a small laugh and leaned in to give her a friendly kiss. When she pulled back there was a bright, lopsided smile on her lips.

"Come on, enough sweet talking, we still have a code key to work on."

And with that, Jamie walked out of the kitchen and back to the bed, picked up her laptop and got back to work. Gaila refilled her glass and smiled to herself. She knew Jamie well enough to know that there would be no more X-raying their hearts or personalities tonight or any night in the near future, and she wasn't going to push it. Jamie wasn't so closed-up people generally gave her credit for, but she had her limits and she didn't allow them to be crossed. Gaila would have liked to talk and talk for hours, but her friend didn't share the feeling. What they did share, however, was eagerness to work and get things done like they were to be observed by every single professor in Federation.

"Gaila, let's make a deal," Jamie proposed innocently while scrolling through their course book on her PADD.  
"Hm? What kind of a deal?" The other just went on even though Jamie's deals and ideas were seldom purely harmless or innocent.

"Don't do it Gaila, you'll regret it later!" Uhura threw in from her bed, where she laid half asleep, staring at the screen without really paying attention to it.

Gaila ignored her and leaned closer to her friend to hear her proposal.

"If I come up with the key before you do," the blond said slowly, pointing her index finger at Gaila, "you'll learn to drive a motorcycle."

The Orion frowned. "That death-machine of yours?"  
"She's not a death-machine! She's an elegant mademoiselle, for your information!"

"Don't do it Gaila! Do you have any idea how many fees she's got?"

"Thank you Uhura dear, could you now please sink back in you half-slumber?"

Gaila laughed behind her hand and wiggled in a better position crossing her legs and leaning back.

"Okay, I'll make a deal with you. But! If I figure the puzzle out before you, you must rub my back for an hour."

The blond woman pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, tilted her head and tapped her chin toughtfully with her index finger. She impersonated deep thinking though she had already made up her mind, a habit that appeared in every area of her life.  
Gaila smiled. She knew there was no room for hesitation or requesting when the world was falling apart around them, one had to go forward and reach out. She could already predict Jamie's answer.

"Deal!"

Gaila smiled even wider.


End file.
